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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25683235">(the way) a knife loves a heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ODed_on_jingle_jangle/pseuds/ODed_on_jingle_jangle'>ODed_on_jingle_jangle</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Tragedy Girls (2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/F, Mild Gore, Murder, Post-Canon, Serial Killers, Torture</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:06:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>938</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25683235</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ODed_on_jingle_jangle/pseuds/ODed_on_jingle_jangle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>McKayla and Sadie, and a series of images.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sadie Cunningham/McKayla Hooper</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>(the way) a knife loves a heart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>One day I will write actual stories again and not mere snapshots of various whatevers, but today is not that day. </p><p>Fairly gratuitous Easter Egg/crossover in here.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>I.</strong>
</p><p>The Lifetime movie made in their honor premieres on a Friday night. Sadie makes popcorn and sprinkles it with parmesan cheese, the pleasant scent of butter floating through the dorm. They place the bowl between them in bed and wash it down with swallows of iced cherry cola. Sadie complains the actresses the network picked to play them are a little too hammy, little too over-the-top to take seriously. Her nose crinkles so cutely with criticism that McKayla simply has to kiss it. The kiss wipes the frown right off Sadie’s face and she rolls her eyes, gently bumping against McKayla’s shoulder as she shovels another handful of popcorn into her mouth. </p><p><br/>
<strong>II. </strong>
</p><p>Their first victim outside Rosedale is the university’s new cheerleading coach. It’s Sadie who chooses her, doesn’t care for the gunmetal cold of her eyes or the cutthroat intensity with which she runs every practice. It’s McKayla who deals the killing blow, hand cupped around the back of the older woman’s neck as she twists the blade up into her guts. Blood gushes hot down McKayla’s forearm, knife handle slipping between her fingers, tawny skin splashed crimson. Sadie’s cackling crescendos melodiously in the background. Bitch’s last wretched breath brushes over McKayla’s lips, tastes a bit like menthol and merlot. </p><p>
  <strong>III. </strong>
</p><p>McKayla suggests they torture this one, a beefcake of a football player who talks too loudly and snorts like a swine. He was flirting with Sadie at the frat party they went to last weekend and he was even more obnoxious about it than Jordon once was. Sadie agrees with no hesitation. McKayla uses the pair of forceps from the first aid kit her parents made her pack to rid him of his fingernails one by one, pinching the tips of each and twisting back and forth to intensify his suffering before she rips them free. He squirms helplessly against her actions, bull like head thrashing madly from side to side, crotch of his pants darkening as the sour scent of urine rises in the air. Eventually ten raw, wet nail beds glisten up at them, sweet watermelon pink. Sadie proudly kisses her temple.</p><p><strong>IV.</strong> </p><p>Sadie didn’t do well on her oral presentation in Communications, and it’s total bullshit because she knows she was the best speaker in the class. She had clear dictation, pronunciation, and eloquence. Not only was she the best speaker, but she had the best topic hands down. The distinction between spree and serial killers was actually interesting, unlike the patterns of migratory birds or the most common fast foot joints found across the midwest. </p><p>She kills her professor in his office after hours. Distracts him by approaching him under the guise of discussing her grades, allowing McKayla to sneak up and bash him upside the head with a brick. The wound is ugly, swelling up instantaneously, red weeping down to his chin. It isn’t a mortal wound though, it's not the kiling blow. He sobs through bloody tears and fumbles through his pain as they bind him to his desk chair with duct tape. Sadie empties his garbage can into his desk and ties its smelly plastic bag around his face. She and McKayla hold hands as they wait for him to suffocate, sitting on top tables and idly kicking their legs back and forth like kids on a porch swing. </p><p>
  <strong>VI. </strong>
</p><p>She’s cute, this one. Shoulder-length auburn hair framing her angelic face in a wavy bob. Cheeks dappled with fallow freckles. A theater major, she played Martha when they did Spring Awakening and that’s how McKayla thinks of her, because she’s forgotten her real name. McKayla strangles her during sex, hands clenched tight around her throat as she grinds her pussy against the freckly thigh lodged between her own even tighter. </p><p>Her cell phone lies on the pillow, Sadie on the other end so she can experience this even if she’s not physically here— back in Rosedale for a week because her hapless dad gave himself a concussion trying to use the oven. Not-Martha’s eyes roll back in her head as her attempts to claw McKayla off grow weaker and her rapid, frenzied breathes break down to squeaks and wheezes. Sadie’s schoolgirl giggles chime in through the speakers. Not-Martha’s hands slide from McKayla’s wrists and flop quietly to the bed. Her final breath is a choked cough and with that, McKayla reaches climax. </p><p>
  <strong>VII. </strong>
</p><p>They celebrate 750k subscribers by butchering a popular barista at the main campus café. Everyone adores him with his teddy bear eyes and his corny but never dirty jokes; only barista there who spells names neatly and correctly on the coffee cups. There won’t be a dry eye in the house when his body turns up. He’ll be missed, which means they can milk his death for awhile. Sadie keeps his mouth open with a bite block she took from the dentist’s office the last time she had a cleaning. She’d spent the entirety of the appointment looking at the tools on the tray and realizing that in the right hands, those tools could be weapons and there was actually quite a bit of horror you could do to a person’s mouth. </p><p>It’s none of those fancy tools, but a simple, rusty pair of pliers she uses to wrench his teeth from the gums. They click and clack against the floor like breath mints rattling about a tin. McKayla beams and chortles like a child. Four of his molars have gold caps. One day, Sadie promises McKayla, she will have them melted down into a wedding band. That is the day she will propose. </p>
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